


Bad Ideas Start Something Good

by BunkBuddyLucifer



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:32:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2847794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunkBuddyLucifer/pseuds/BunkBuddyLucifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A SPN 7x17 rewrite. </p><p>Steve Rogers accidentally hit a man one night. Guilt drove him to make sure the man was okay. The first visit let him know the man was okay. The other visits to Sam Winchester were to enjoy the man’s company.</p><p>(Follows 7x17 for the most part)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Ideas Start Something Good

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Forlorn Kumquat (sara_wolfe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_wolfe/gifts).



> A BSGC Secret Santa exchange for tumblr user Forlorn-Kumquat! First Captain Winchester fic ever. Hope you enjoy it! And some Happy Holidays! =D

This was a bad idea.

Steve knew it wasn’t a good idea to not focus his total attention on the road, but he had to take the call. The deserted road and the time of night assuaged a little of the bad vibe he felt, but it still wasn’t a good idea. He ended the call with a sigh, looking down for a moment to find where the damned call button was -

**THUNK. THUD-DUD-DUD**

Steve planted both feet on the brake. His tires screeched in protest, but he could barely hear them over the roar of the blood in his ears. He checked the rearview mirror. Did he? He looked frantically in the mirror, hoping to see nothing but pavement. He wasn’t granted that. He spied the crumpled body on the ground behind him. The sick twist in his gut forced him to take a few breaths to keep the bile in. He hit someone. He hit someone with his car. 

He was certain he’d ripped the car door from his hinges when he flung the driver’’s side door open to rush to the man’s side, cellphone in hand. Steve forced his hands to steady, forced himself to detach for the good of this innocent man. He grimaced at the sweat that slicked under his fingers at the man’s neck and the unhealthy pallor that seemed to have little to do with this accident. The relief at the pulse, weak but steady, punched the air from his lungs. 

In a daze, he called 9-1-1 to request an ambulance. He promised to stay with the ‘victim’ - he swallowed hard at that word - until they arrived before hanging up. He wiped his hands down his face. This man had to survive. He had to. This wasn’t the battlefield, this man wasn’t on the other force. Most likely, this man wasn’t anyone but a civilian, going by his clothes. A civilian who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and wasn’t that just always the case?

The man groaned. Steve jumped. He had hoped he was unconscious, at least the pain wouldn’t be as bad to him that way. Bleary eyes looked around, unfocused and trying to stay alert. The man tried to get up, slumping down with another groan before Steve could speak.

“It’s going to be okay. You were hit by a car.” The man wrinkled his forehead in confusion. Steve figured he had to be in 20s - maybe younger with that expression. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean - “

“It’s okay.” The man rasped. His eyes were unfocused, but he tried to keep his gaze on Steve. He even went so far as to pat Steve’s knee, as if to reassure him. Steve was floored.

“It’s not okay, sir. I hit you with my car.”

“It happens.” His voice weaker this time, his eyes flickering off to the left before returning with determination to Steve’s face.

“It shouldn’t have happened.” Steve frowned. The stranger seemed stuck in the mode to reassure him, despite the pain he was in. Steve couldn’t handle that. He switched topics. “What’s your name?”

“Sam.”

“Hi, Sam. I’m Steve.” Steve offered a weak smile. “I’d say it’s good to meet you, but these circumstances-” He trailed off.

The man huffed a laugh, blood flecking his pale lips. “Suck.” 

“Yeah.” Steve said. He was almost hoping to continue the conversation, try to keep Sam conscious, but Sam’s eyes rolled and his body went limp, save a few twitches of his finger. Steve kept his fingers firmly against Sam’s neck, refusing to move until the ambulance came. 

The EMTs moved him out of the way, asking him questions he barely knew the answers to, but answered as honestly as he could. They didn’t allow him to ride with them, but he did get the name of the Hospital before they loaded Sam in the back. His stomach twisted when they flipped the lights on just a few blocks down. Too scared to drive as fast as the ambulance, he forced himself to follow all traffic rules. It was harder than he thought it’d be. On a typical day, he wouldn’t have thought twice at some of the speed limit postings or cursed at a red light. But tonight wasn’t typical. 

By the time he finally got to the Hospital, Sam was already surrounded by professionals. Steve could see Sam’s feet dangling off the gurney. Through the others, he could even see Sam’s body start twisting, seizing. There was a flurry as they wheeled him through Trauma. Steve sat heavy in the chair and covered his face. What had he done?

\-------------------------------------------------------

_“RISE AND SHINE, SAMMY.”_

Sam jerked awake. Unconsciousness wasn’t exactly the same as sleeping, but he would easily take what he could get at this moment. He moved his hand. Tried to move his hand. The jangling and firm resistance caught his attention and he looked down in a panic. Restraints held his hands and feet to the bed, two firm straps around his chest and knees did the rest. He fought against them in a panic, ignoring Lucifer’s laughter as he did so. He exhausted quickly, pain radiating from his ribs bringing him down quickly.

 _“Tsk. Poor Sammy. Too violent to leave alone.”_ Lucifer cooed from his perch on the table beside him. _“I guess that’s what happens when you try to fight the mean ol’ Devil in front of everyone, hmm? I don’t think you liked my last performance.”_

Sam grit his teeth, looking away. The door clicked open. He ignored it. 

_“We have a visitor!”_ Lucifer crowed. _“Aww, looks like he wants to see you. Tell him he’s not invited. I like seeing you like this.”_

“Sam? Can you hear me?”

Sam turned to look at the Doctor. He licked his chapped lips. “Yeah.” His voice sounded foreign to his ears.

“I’m Doctor Carwreight. Do you know where you are?”

“Hospital.”

“Do you know why you’re in the Hospital?”

Sam paused in thought. He remembered the drug dealer, the drugs that didn’t work, Lucifer’s singing, Lucifer’s taunting, running, bright lights…

“I was hit by a car.”

“Yes. I’m sorry about the restraints. While treating you, you injured a few of our staff.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Dr. Carwreight nodded. “They are fine. Benefits of being in a Hospital.”

Sam smiled weakly, looking down at his hands. “Can you - uhm - take these off?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.”

_“I don’t think he tru~usts you. He shouldn’t, you know.”_

“I’m not going to do anything, doctor. I swear.”

Dr. Carwreight was silent for a few moments. Sam resisted the urge to fidget. “Okay. I’ll get a few orderlies in to take off your restraints. But if you get violent…”

“I understand. I won’t. Thank you.”

Dr. Carwreight left with a nod. Minutes later - hours perhaps, Sam couldn’t keep track of time with Lucifer’s cheerful ramblings - three large orderlies entered his room. Two warily removed his restraints while the other stood at the foot of his bed, watching. He rubbed his wrists when they were removed, making a show of slowly sitting up and leaning against the headrest. 

“Thanks.”

They watched him for a few more moments, before leaving him alone in his room.

_“You’re never truly alone, Sam. You’ll always have me.”_

\-------------------------------------------------------

It took Steve a few days to get permission to see Sam. He didn’t know his last name, but the specific nature of his admittance helped narrow it down. Sam wasn’t in the ICU, so his injuries, while bad, were not as life-threatening as Steve feared. He had to request special permission to see him, however, which worried him. The last he saw of Sam, the large man was seizing on the gurney and now he was in the Psych Ward? He tried to shove his immediate reaction down to talk with the man he hit.

He peered through the small window in the door to Sam’s room, stunned at the image. Sam was very tall, which Steve had figured when he barely fit the gurney, but he hadn’t realized how broad the man was. Even with his shoulders hunched in an effort to take up as little room as possible, he seemed nearly as wide as the headboard. The harsh fluorescent lights did little for his pallor and Steve was surprised to find the man looked healthier when he saw him before. The bags under Sam’s eyes far more pronounced, though Steve could make out his features better this way. Under other circumstances, he’d be inclined to ask him for a cup of coffee. But that didn’t seem appropriate now.

Sam flinched when the door opened, looking up at Steve with eyes more focused, though confused. Steve stepped inside, noting the orderly kept the door open before standing off to the side in the hallway. 

“Hi.” Steve offered a weak smile, struggling not to fidget. What do you say to the guy you put in the Hospital?

Sam tilted his head to the side, as if listening to someone else for a moment. He shook his head, looking at Steve again with his brows furrowed. “Hey. You’re-uh-Steven, right?”

Steve held his hands out by his waist, smile broadening a bit as he walked further into the room. “Steve.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. We didn’t really get a chance for a proper introduction.”

Sam watched him like a hawk as he pulled out the chair by the desk, sitting down to be at Sam’s eye level. Sam seemed to relax at that action.

“You’re the man who ran me over.”

Steve winces at the blunt tone. “Ah, yeah.” He rubs the back of his neck, keeping his eyes on Sam. “I’m really sorry about that.”

Sam shook his head. “It’s okay. You called the ambulance, I take it? Didn’t just hit and run?”

“No! I mean, yes, I called the ambulance, but no, I couldn’t just drive off from that. It was my fault. It’s not okay.”

Sam shrugged. “I shouldn’t have ran in front of you like that.”

Steve shook his head. “You always take apologizes this well?”

Sam cracked a smile. The tension in Steve’s shoulders relaxing at the sight. Sam’s eyes flickered off to a spot just behind Steve and his smile vanished for a moment, before returning. He had dimples. “Always.”

Steve chuckled. “Well, good to know it’s not just me, then.”

Sam huffed another laugh. Steve wished he could hear what a real laugh sounded like from him. The thought sudden and aching in its intensity. 

“I’m Steve Rogers.” Steve changed the subject, extending his hand for a better introduction than before.

Sam started, surprised. A slow smile came to his lips as his large - much larger, Steve couldn’t help but notice - hand covered Steve’s in a firm grip. “Sam - Sam Smith.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sam Smith.”

Sam almost laughed. Steve could pinpoint the exact moment he stopped himself. “We’ll see, Steve Rogers.” 

Steve smiled awkwardly, taking his hand back when Sam let it go, the lingering warmth like pinpricks on his skin. “How are you feeling?”

Sam frowned for a moment, flinching, before answering. “I’m fine.”

Steve arched a brow. “I don’t know you that well yet, Sam, but I don’t think that word is being used properly.”

Sam barked a laugh. It was an cynical sound, one that worried Steve. Yet the tone, he recognized. “Well, I’m not dead, and I’m not in ICU, so it can’t be too bad. A few bruised ribs, sprains, scraps - little stuff. I’ll **_be_** fine.”

Steve could see Sam biting back words, but he didn’t want to pry. His phone buzzed in his pocket. The phone that few people had the number to. Sam nearly jumped out of his skin at the buzz, eyeing Steve like a predator for a long moment before forcing himself to relax. 

Steve frowned, catching Sam’s eyes in apologize. “I’m sorry, Sam, I need to take this.”

“It’s okay.” Sam nodded, raising his bandaged hand in a small wave. “It was nice to meet you. Thanks for stopping by.”

Steve bit his lower lip. “Do you - Do you mind if I visit again?”

Sam seemed surprised. “Again?”

“Yeah.” Steve didn’t expand on his reasoning.

Sam sized him up, saying nothing for a long moment. After what seemed like ages, he nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Sure. Sounds good.”

Steve smiled. He stood finally, wiping his hands on his jeans and pretending not to see the frantic glance Sam made at the spot behind him. “See you later, then, Sam.”

“See you, Steve.”

Steve waved with a smile before he left, the orderly shutting the door behind him.

\-------------------------------------------------------

_“Ooh, I think he likes you, Sam.”_ Lucifer cooed.

“Shut up.” Sam whispered.

_“Tch. Sam. I thought we had this conversation before? Manners.”_

Sam turned his head away.

 _“You know,”_ Lucifer sighed, tone mockingly apologetic, _“He’s never going to come back, right?”_

Sam bit his lower lip to keep from replying.

_“It’ll be just you and me in this ward. Like it should be.”_

“Shut up.”

_“Oh, Sam. Have you learned nothing?”_

Contrary to Lucifer’s taunts, Steve visited the very next day. And the next day. And the day after that.

Sam was surprised the man kept his word. He was even more surprised by how much he found himself enjoying the man’s company. After only a few days, he found himself looking forward to when Steve visited. He discovered they actually had a few things in common - which always made conversation easier. Sam was a little confused sometimes when Steve used slang he had never heard of and made a point of asking for clarification. He normally wouldn’t be so bold and just take it from context, but the way Steve ducked his head in embarrassment was adorable. He recommended a few movies and artists Steve hadn’t watched or heard of, watching with fascination as the man wrote them down. They discussed older movies Sam could never get Dean to watch all the way through. Sam was able to ignore most of Lucifer’s antics during Steve’s visits.

The coil in Sam’s stomach unraveled a bit when Dean visited. Sam’s worry about his brother faded a bit seeing his face, hearing his voice. Though exhaustion tugged down his thoughts and made his movements sluggish. Lucifer had much more fun when Dean was there. Sam tried to ignore it. Dean promised to find a way to help him. Sam hoped he would, wished him the best of luck. The nagging in the back of his mind, voiced by Lucifer, doubted such a thing existed. This may be the last time he’d get the chance to see his brother.

Steve continued his visits, which Sam was grateful for. Even if his energy faded with each passing hour. He didn’t want to worry the man, surprising himself with the ferocity of that want, but Steve could hear what Sam didn’t say. Steve assumed he’s a veteran. Like him. Sam wanted to laugh - “War is Hell, but Hell is Hell” his mind retorts - but stops himself. Steve means well and it’s the closest he can get to what happened to him in this world. Steve offered tips that Sam smiles and says he’ll use them. He tried them when Steve wasn’t there.

Lucifer laughed through a microphone.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Steve blinked at the restraints. Sam looked small on the bed despite his legs dangling off the edge. The stubble on his face increased over the days he visited, hiding the weight he had lost. Steve knew it wasn’t healthy.

Sam smiled at Steve, struggling to focus on him. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Steve looked pointedly at the restraints. “Rough day?”

Sam laughed hollowly. “These? No, these are the latest fashion, don’t you know?”

The tease fell flat. Steve didn’t reply.

Sam sighed. “I was helping a girl earlier. Marin. She’s going to be released soon.”

“Helping her how?”

“We may have needed fire.”

“What would you need fire for?”

Sam sighed and dropped his gaze. “It’s going to sound even too crazy for this place.”

Steve took a seat on the chair, ‘his chair’ as he started to call it (even if it was the only chair in the room). “Try me.” It couldn’t be any crazier than being injected with a serum, gaining muscle and health, and being frozen in a glacier for decades. He didn’t voice those thoughts.

Sam sighed again. “She was being haunted by her brother. She had a bracelet with some blood and it had to be salted and burned before he could be released to the afterlife.”

Steve was silent for a long moment. Sam misinterpreted that silence.

“I told you, crazy.”

“Do most things have to be salted and burned to release a spirit?”

Sam looked at him again, brows furrowing. “It’s not always the object. If the object has some of their DNA - hair and blood, usually - then yeah. Otherwise, their bones need to be salted and burned.”

“I see.”

“Crazy, huh?”

“Sam, there are some things I’ve not yet told you, but trust me, that isn’t the craziest thing I’ve heard.”

“You’re taking this well.”

“Like I said, it isn’t the craziest thing I’ve heard. The question is, did it work?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it did. It usually does. But they don’t understand that here. Just an upswing in my crazy, I guess. Like hearing a specific voice and not being able to eat or sleep and hallucinations weren’t crazy enough.”

“Specific voice?”

“If you want to keep thinking well of me, please don’t ask me to tell you that.”

Steve wanted to. He truly wanted to ask and know more. The way Sam pleaded, his eyes begging, stopped his voice. He nodded instead.

“Thank you.” Sam sighed in relief.

“So.” Steve swapped topics. “You’ve done this sort of thing before?”

Sam smiled.

\-------------------------------------------------------

One day, Steve didn’t visit.

Lucifer had a field day.

Sam doesn’t remember much from that day.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Steve grumbled as he walked to Sam’s room. He had missed a day and he couldn’t even let Sam know about it. He wasn’t oblivious to the way Sam’s tired eyes would light up when he came in. He didn’t want to think what Sam might have thought that day.

Steve blinked hard when he saw Sam’s room empty. Did he get checked out? Did the brother Sam told him about come and pick him up? Or did he - Steve shook his head hard to dislodge that thought pattern. He didn’t want to think that, but it nagged him. Nibbled at the back of his mind as he wandered the halls trying to find his friend. 

Muffled screams piqued his attention. He ran towards the sound, stunned to find the man he was looking for. Being electrocuted. The orderly he saw when he visited Sam sat at the machine, cranking the voltage and smiling fiendishly. Steve couldn’t help but stare. The man’s eyes were pitch black.

Steve didn’t hesitate. He ran forward, punching the man causing harm to Sam and threw him across the room. His concern was turning off the machine. The man could wait. The man didn’t get the memo. He growled and grabbed Steve from behind, tossing him across the room as if he weighed nothing at all. Steve caught his breath, shaking his head to clear it and stood. He stared at the man over Sam’s writhing body, answering the smile with sneer. He stepped forward, only to need to throw his hand up as blinding light emerged from the other man’s eyes. 

He lowered his arms, senses on alert at the man standing in the trenchcoat. 

“Who are you?”

The man turned off the machine before answering. “I am Castiel.”

“What did you do?” Steve demanded. He wanted to defend his friend, but the way Castiel looked down at Sam made it clear to him he wasn’t a danger to Sam. At least, not right now.

“I simply vanquished the demon inside.” Castiel answered as if discussing the weather, never taking his attention off Sam. “I should never have broken your wall, Sam. I’m here to make it right.”

He removed the rubber between Sam’s teeth and contraption from his forehead. He touched Sam’s forehead and Steve watched in awe as his cuts healed instantly. ‘Demon’ circled through Steve’s head. Literal? Or metaphorical? The thoughts shoved to the back as he saw Sam look at Castiel and breath, “You’re not real.”

“Oh, Sam … I’m so sorry.”

Steve shoves all the questions down. “Castiel. We need to get him back to his room. If you can grab that arm…?”

“What? Oh, of course.”

\-------------------------------------------------------

“So you're saying there's nothing? That he's gonna be like this until his candle blows out?”

Steve frowned. He could barely follow the conversation between Castiel and Sam’s brother, but he knew what that phrase meant. “Why do you assume he’s going to die?”

“He hasn’t slept in God knows how long.” Dean answered dismissively, staring at Castiel.

“I'm sorry. This isn't a problem I can make disappear. And you know that.” Castiel paused. “But I may be able to shift it.”

“Shift?” Steve and Dean questioned together.

“Yeah, it would get Sam back on his feet.” Castiel moved into the room.

“Wait, Cas, what are you doing?” Dean demanded. Castiel ignored him.

Steve turned to Dean. “What is he talking about? What wall?”

Dean sighed, glaring at Steve. “It’s a long story, okay?”

“I’ve got time.”

Dean paused. “Who the hell are you, anyway? What do you want with Sam?”

“I’m just -” Steve cut his words off at the red glow coming from inside Sam’s room. Sam grunted in pain, the red light connecting the two before trailing off into Castiel. Sam gasped for breath, arms flailing, as the red glow faded from Castiel’s eyes.

Dean moved faster that Steve to Sam’s side. “Sam?”

Sam’s eyes, wild and frantic but so much clearer than Steve had seen them, locked on Dean. “Dean?”

“Sam!”

Sam looked at Castiel. “Cas? Cas, is that you?” 

Castiel whimpered and ran across the room. Sam’s eyes followed him. They stopped on Steve. “... Hey.”

Steve smiled, ignoring the impressive glare from Dean. “Hey. Sorry I wasn’t able to make it yesterday.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you were here today.” Sam returned his smile.

“Okay, this is touching and all, but we gotta go. Strip, Sammy, I got your clothes.”

Sam blushed a bit. Steve smiled at the response and turned his back. He couldn’t help chuckle hearing the noises behind him. The indignant, “Jesus, Dean! I got it!” and the faux-annoyed, “Dude, I brought you a clean pair of your fancy-assed underwear for a reason. Seen it before, princess.” 

Between the three of them, they were able to convince Castiel to change from his clothing into the spare hospital clothing. It didn’t fit well at all, but it made things less suspicious overall. Castiel sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in his lap and unresponsive after they were finished.

“Is it okay to leave this guy here?” Steve couldn’t help but ask. Sam looked to his brother, the same question in his eyes.

“Yeah, it’s fine. He’s safe here.”

“Safe from what?” Steve wanted to know.

“We gotta go.” Dean evaded the question, turning around and leaving.

Steve steadied Sam when he swayed, smiling up - he’d have to get used to that - at Sam. “You good?”

“You’re real.” Sam said with a smile.

“Yes, I am. And it’s good to see you up, Sam.”

“It’d be better under other circumstances, huh?”

“Always.” Steve smiled, squeezing Sam’s shoulders. Sam ducked his head, but Steve could still see the small blush on his cheeks.

“Come on, let’s go!” Dean peered into the room, frowning. He glared at Steve seeing their position. “Who the hell are you, again?”

Sam chuckled. “He’s the guy who hit me with his car.”

If looks could kill, Steve would have been a victim of Dean’s right then. “Oh really?”

“Yeah. Dean, it’s okay. It turned out better this way, okay?”

Dean didn’t agree, but he didn’t argue. “Let’s go.” 

“So,” Steve started as they headed down the hall. “Demons, huh?”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, those are real, too. Angels, as well.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. They’re a bit different than you’d think, though.”

“How so?”

“Most are dicks. But some are okay. Castiel? He’s an angel.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Hnn.” 

“...Yeah.”

Steve chuckled. “I guess there’s a lot of stories behind learning that info, huh?”

Sam smirked. “You could definitely say that.”

Steve helped Sam out, holding a steadying hand behind the small of his back if he needed it. “Glad your brother found you, Sam.”

“Me, too.”

“I guess this means you’ll be heading away, then?” Steve tried to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“Yeah. I’m not sure where. We need to get pretty far from here. Just in case they come looking for us, you know?” Sam stumbled into Steve, who easily helped steady him. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“If we didn’t have to run away so quick, I’d ask if you wanted to get some cof-” Sam paused, shook his head. “Dinner. I don’t think I’ll be drinking coffee for a while, now.”

Steve arched a brow. “Dinner? A friendly dinner? Or … “ He left it dangling.

Sam blushed a bit. “I like the sound of ‘or…’ “

Steve couldn’t stop the grin. Sam returned with a smile of his own, dimples full force. “Well, let me know where you guys settle down. I travel a lot myself and I’ve been known to wander a bit for a good dinner with great company. And stories.” 

“Will do.” Sam smiled, stopping at the door for a moment as Dean brought the car around.

Steve whistled at the car, causing Sam to laugh. “Yeah, we get that reaction a lot.”

Steve dug into his pocket, pulling out a card. He searched for a pen in his jacket and scribbled down a number. He handed it to Sam, noticing again how long the other man’s fingers were. “Here. My number. Call me when you guys settle down for that dinner, okay? Or if you guys need anything.”

Sam pulled out his wallet, tucking the card inside with care. “Will do.” He paused for a moment, debating with himself, before leaning down to kiss Steve’s check. Steve turned at the last minute, catching Sam’s lips with his own.

“All right, break it up. Come on, Sammy. We need to go.” Dean rolled his eyes over the Impala top, sliding into the driver’s seat dramatically.

Sam pulled away from Steve. “I, uh, gotta.” He gestured awkwardly towards the car.

“Yeah. Hear from you soon?”

Sam smiled, opening the car door and shyly looking at Steve through his bangs. “Definitely.”

\-------------------------------------------------------

Steve didn’t hear from Sam for a good month. He was sure the other man had forgotten about him. While the thought pained him, he couldn’t blame him. They had known each other for under a week, total. Still, Steve couldn’t get the dimpled smile out of his head. Or the thought that demons could be anyone in the crowd. He’d rather have had that conversation before they parted ways.

_Brriiiiiiiiiiiing_

Steve nearly jumped out of his chair at the sound. He didn’t get calls much anymore.

“Hello?”

“Steve? Hey, uhm, I don’t know if you remember me….” Sam’s voice on the other end, frantic, painful, lost.

“Sam.”

Sam sighed in relief. “Yeah, yeah. Uhm, is that dinner offer still good?”

“Yeah, Sam, of course. Where are you, now? I could pick you up?”

“How about I pick you up?”

“That nice one you and your brother had?”

“About my brother…” Sam sounded so lost.

“Why don’t you come here and tell me over a home-cooked meal?”

“... Okay.”


End file.
